VERY long:
My story on DXM, the greatest regret of my life.
Up until halfway through senior year, I hadn't ever even touched a drop of alcohol (except Rxed pain meds after several surgeries that are now causing me lifelong grief, and no more pain meds... they're now givng me carbamazepine for nerve pain, doesn't do a damn thing) I then became infatuated with this other girl, my prom date, but when that didn't work out I tried taking 120mg of DXM because I had no alcohol and was actually more afraid of weed than DXM because of asthma.
I finally decided to try weed towards the end of the summer, and absolutely detested it. I didn't want to drink alcohol alone since I was already concerned with my albeit infrequent use given how I just started to lose my intellect, or so it felt, after I started regularly drinking (weekends only). Instead one night when I had nothing better to do and I was still pissed about that girl, I decided to try 150mg of DXM or so and was absolutely amazed. It was the coolest experience of my life thus far and I kept thinking to myself "so this is what I've been missing out on by not doing drugs" (I had been offered for years, always mr DARE top of my class turning them down). 2 days later I did 300mg and was blown blown blown away, thoguh the 3 day hangover sucked (one day from 150mg).
College came and I became overwhelmed with anxiety, trying to make new friends and trying to keep myself together. I stook to my videogames for a while until I got the great idea to grab some DXM. I still remember my roommate walking back (in the dorms) and me crazily saying "Hey, I'm high! Yeah, on cough syrup"
He was weirded out, but I didn't even pick up any social cues when I was on it. I then started using about 150mg every time I wanted to be social as it reduced my inhibitions and I could actually talk with people without being a nervous wreck. What I didn't realize was I was missing all the subtle social cues of people trying to get me to leave. A few weeks later I was reading the DXM faq again and I saw something about social cues, and this just turned me into an introvert DXM freak.
I started dosing 2nd plateau to 3rd plateau every friday night because after a while I just gave up trying to get into parties that were usually frat parties aka girls only. DXM just floored me, I loved it so much. I was watching Apocalypse Now one time and remember becoming completely immersed in the movie, thinking of the actual Vietnam and how my dad had been there. DXM made me just... I don't know, love life, love everything, and I didn't realize it at the time, but stupid.
After a trip home for Thanksgiving, I tried E for the first time and loved it (though it was only 3 days since my last DXM trip). The next week, I missed every single day of lecture. This has happened every time I did E, I would need an entire week to recover from extreme lethargy.
I started missing days of class every now and then and was getting 3-4 hours of sleep a night (I wokred at 8 am and would usually go out and smoke with people until 3 AM), living on energy drinks and mentally just wearing myself out. I turned into a bit of a pothead and suddenly I developed an entire circle of friends-- but things were always tense since they wanted me to get them pot and I wasn't a dealer. My friend became a dealer and one time when I was back in my hometown and I got a call asking for some, I in the end just gave out my friends number (he had told me this was okay beforehand) and suddenly I more or less cut myself out the group of friends. I would always offer to smoke, but I always felt like the odd man out. DXM every weekend 2nd to 3rd plateau, I remember one time watching the "rainbow road" course from mario 64-- in my head with my eyes closed, as I liked in my bed. I was phychologically addicted.
Eventually got a vaporizer and tried to cut back on DXM but instead ended up combining the two, found a new circle of friends and started smoking pot more often and DXMing less often, but still about every weekend since I was almost never invited to parties and when I was, I was always awkward and stook out like a sore thumb. Screw that, I'd rather 'dex. Eventually got invited to a rave by a fluke of circumstances and E again (most amazing experience of my life that night at my first rave), and after another week of missed classes. I was seriosuly screwing myself academically, the #1 of my high school class who even was admitted to UCBerkeley (but couldn't afford) and I pull 2.89 fall quarter, withdraw one class P/F another (fail because I ended up not studying for the final, too obsessed with DXM to think straight) and the third was easy enough I breezed through with a 3.2 missing half the lectures.
Eventually I was introduced to oxycontin, and suddenly DXM was history; except for the ridiculous price of $80 an 80mg pill. In order to get the most bang for my buck, I started combining DPH and DXM in low to mediumish doses to give Oxy a real kick (5mg line or so with 60mg dxm and 75mg dph). I then started doing these lines all the time and weaned myself off DXM trips by and large, still occasionally tripping on a weekend when I had nothing better to do, but frequently using 90-150mg to "potentiate" my oxy-- seriously, I went a whole month of 5mg lines getting me high and 10mg lines getting me to nod.
I ended up failing pretty much entirely at school almost solely because of DXM. I started to feel like I was absolutely stupid and falling apart, but summer would be my saving grace and the oxy had helped me get off DXM mostly, no longer tripping at least. Completely withdrew from Spring quarter and then went home for the summer, only to have my parents not at home and my brother was turning into right the regular partier. There were a few weeks of regular MDMA use, almost daily pot and alcohol, and just plain craziness. I lost a lot of money trying to buy some stuff which pissed me off beyond belief and drove me to trip, and then when my parents got back and we had to move to a new house, I just turned into a complete recluse, dxming as often as I felt was safe (after the last hangover wore off, usually about a week, less if I puked during the trip).
Come fall quarter the first weekend before class, I'd scored a bottle of codeine cough syrup thanks to strep. It had guaifenesin in it, but I didn't care and one night I took a bunch of mucinex DM tablets, 300mg DPH, and half a bottle of codeine w/ guaif. It was fun, I watched myself fall asleep while still being awake. I even opened my eyes after I was asleep, but then when I tried to move, I couldn't. Thankfully my roommate was out of the room, but I had basically a seizure where I was thrusting myself back and forth in crazy contorted ways just trying to move. Then black out, next morning I didn't remember a damn thing. I didn't remember the "seizure" until a week later, perhaps the scariest part of all.
Next weekend my anxiety takes over again and I just don't ahve anything to do on a friday night, so I go grab a couple bottles of DXM and have a grand old time. I started excessively smoking (vaping) pot.
The second week on Tuesday I had a math quiz, and I still had the "DXM yawns" that I always would get, and my brain just wasn't working right. I finally realized that DXM was fucking up my schooling and decided to quit. Before long, though, I ended up with a bunch of mdma, valium, and xanax xr. A few days later I got another oxy, something that I was all but addicted to (and would definitely have been had my funds and supplies worked out, didn't have a connect in my hometown for the summer). I just went nuts with Oxy + mdma + valium + xanax + dph, throwing in a little DXM (90 or 120 mg) to potentiate the oxy as I figured that the last times I'd done E, it was always within 3 days of having done DXM and those were higher doses, like
z worth or more, so 120mg probably wouldn't fuck me up too much bad. I was wrong. I just cracked mentally, cops ended up coming to my room and illegally searching it and finding a gram of pot that WASN'T EVEN MINE. I didn't demand a warrant because I was afraid they would then go get one (read between the lines), was booked to jail and my life fell apart (but at least I'm pretty sure I can beat the case, my attorney too). Ended up with a possession charge and did a withdrawal from the Uni for a couple quarters to see a psychiatrist and get things straightened out.
While at home, I only dexed a few times. Every single time I did, I became schizophrenic. I cannot even put to words what kinds of thoughts and "experiences" I had because I was quite literally crazy, and to this day I wonder what the hell really happend those days. One absolutely crazy beyond crazy example, day after I'd dexed, my memory is foggy since I'd smoked some pot, somehow I ended up lying down while still chewing gum at like 130 200 am. An unknown amount of time later I woke up and went to my computer since I couldn't sleep. I ate a candy bar but there was absolutely NO taste WHATSOEVER. Then drank some water and it didn't feel like anything was going down. Suddenly I suddenly started hearing an inexplicable voice inside my head that wasn't a voice, it was a sound sequence. Then suddenly my body felt it got alert and I became convinced this was the "actual" warning system, that I was actually going to die unless I did something right now. I thought "well can't I just wait until tomorrow" but suddenly every word for "no" that I could possibly imagine seemed to flood back at me, and then I thought do I need help and every word for "yes" I could possibly imagine seemed to flood back at me. I realized the gum was no longer in my mouth, and stuck my fingers down to try to feel the gum lodged in my throat (even though I consciously knew that if there was gum stuck down there, it would have been an hour since I lied down and I would have died of oxygen deprivation by now, and furthermore the candy bar seemed to go down). I thought I felt it, though I'm pretty sure that I didn't. I somehow asked myself if I needed to get my dad to go help, and again the overwhelming "yes" (like yes, alright, uh-huh, let's do it, go, a ton of words one after another so.. fast, so well prepared). I still wasn't sure so I asked myself (see, psychotic) if I could just wait until morning and the overwhelming "no"s came again. Are you serious? The "yes"s. A few minutes passed and finally I asked "absolutely positive" and somehow I got "it doesn't matter anymore" as if implying it was too late and I was already dead. That just scared the hell out of me and I thoguht, hmm, why would I be here in this town so close to the hospital living with my dad at a time like this when I really would need a hospital to live, it's like god set things up (100% athiest, and here I was thinking destiny and god), I figured I was meant to do something worthwhile with my life and that my dad and I had recently talked about some very interesting and also psychotic impossible things about multiple lives, like how we had been brothers in a previous life and how when I was 6 years old I called him by the name he was in this other life way back when in Spain, just absolutely impossible stuff, I somehow started to wonder if he was there to actually save me. Later, the story unravelled further and my belief in reality is still skewed from that incident; apparently he had gotten me locked up in a previous lifetime but they punished me far more than was necessary and he felt forever bad and that he needed to someday make it up to me. Here he was, saving my life. (in my psycho mind, that is)
I finally went and woke my dad and said I need you to help me get some gum out of my throat, I feel asleep while chewing gum and it's stuck and I can't breathe. He replied that obviously I couldn't be talking if there was gum stuck in my throat, and I knew this, but I told him I felt it and to please just take a look. After much frantic convincing he couldn't see so was about to look for a flashlight. Not having success, he went downstairs and turned on an overhead light so I could see what room he was in. I then went back to my room and hid all my DXM bottles and stuff in my backpack, somehow plannign to tell my brother to "save me" from the embarassment of having it all after I died. How would I tell him? That wasn't what I was thinking about at the time, I was deathly afraid of dying. Next I tried repeatedly to "puke up" the gum. A voice that isn't a voice, like I just asked myself questions and answered them if that makes sense, not like a 3rd party entity was really involved, then convinced me that I would be fine in the morning and to not worry. I was too freaked out at this point and kept trying until I tasted blood in my mouth and felt something come out and land on my bedspread-- unfortunately, NOTHING ACTUALLY WAS THERE. I DEFINITELY tasted REAL blood, but NOTHING came out. This just scared me more. I then went to go help my dad look for the flashlight only to find the overheat light was not turned on and that his door was closed, I opened it and there he was sound asleep. What the hell just happened? See, I told you I am crazy. I then proceeded to wake him up again and say we need to go the ER right now, RIGHT now. I was very insistent, saying I was already dead, and he relented and said alright let me just find my shoes. I tried to convince him to go without shoes but he said he just needed them, so he went downstairs again to look for them, turning on the same light as before downstairs and I went back to my room to grab my shoes. Afterward I was half expecting him to be back in bed, like I'm a ghost or something that's already dead, but he was awake and he could hear me and he was still downstairs looking for shoes. He shouted he found them, then ran over to get his jacket and off we went.
This is absolute psychosis, impossible things had happened and I was absolutely out of my mind. In the car my dad asked if I'd done any drugs, I paused and then eventually said no. When we got to the ER I sounded very desperate to the very, very unimpressed/bored with life physician there at 3 in the morning. Again he told me I'm not dying but I insisted over and over again until they brought me to a room. I then saw my brother and I think mom walk up to the front desk, and my brother was talking about something-- he was talking about trying to get my backpack, go through my things, for some reason telling the nurse that after I died he wanted to go through my things first (which was plausible because he knew I smoked pot every now and then). I eventually stopped screaming at the doctor looking at me who was calmly explaining I was not dead, I kept screaming stick your fingers down my throat and get this gum out. She refused, and finally I just gave up and lied back, saying I'm already dead. She asked me what I meant, I said there was gum stuck my throat and the medical system here is pathetic if you let me die in the ER just because you won't take the gum out of my throat. You are absolutely pathetic. I turned very reserved, and then came IV Ativan.
I incoherently/half dreamingly came to a while later and was flashed some documents I was supposed to sign before my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in my bed. Everything was normal, I wondered if it was a bad dream. I walked downstairs and said good morning, everything seemed fine and dandy. Then dad showed me the documents from sacred health and said we should go get your prescription refill on ativan today; it hit me, the night had actually happened. The documents weren't signed, but the documents proved I had been to the ER the night before...
Just a panic attack, but I have had other absolutely psychotic experiences from DXM. A lot of good ones, several mediocre ones, one semi bad trip, and some just that are impossible in every way. I only wish my memory of the events actually worked-- I saw it written somewhere that your memory is switched off when you do DXM and it doesn't encode to the white matter or something as an explanation for the loss of memories during a dissociative trip.
To this day I feel mentally impaired from DXM and I think I did some degree of damage. DXM is great fun, great price, great availability; but stay the fuck away more than one trip per month with the guideline that #1 you have a week to recover (some people get one day of afterglow, I don't get so much an afterglow but a week of feeling my brain isn't working right with very little that's enjoyable, it almost feels like there's nothing going on up there and I get a strong desire to smoke pot because at least then it feels like SOMETHING is going on up there; even after the week, I feel mentally impaired in terms of concentration, memory, focus, and vocabulary), #2 you take x number of months for x level of trip, eg a first plateau trip you take 1 month off, a 3rd plateau trip you take 3 months off. EVEN THEN I suggest against it, just get a low dose of some good LSD (I can't suggest mushrooms because experience #1 was bad trip end in hosptial strapped to the chair, #2 I just drank some tea and had fun but my friend who ate the "mush" from the teabad tripped way, way, way too hard and didn't know anything about anything and had lost his mind temorarily). Stay the fuck away from DXM, that shit doesn't even correctly stop a cold. Just get congress to make some federal register for codeine cough syrup like you have for ephedrine/pseudoephedrine and use that instead, leave DXM for people trying NMDA therapy to reduce tolerance etc.
My story on DXM, the greatest regret of my life.
Up until halfway through senior year, I hadn't ever even touched a drop of alcohol (except Rxed pain meds after several surgeries that are now causing me lifelong grief, and no more pain meds... they're now givng me carbamazepine for nerve pain, doesn't do a damn thing) I then became infatuated with this other girl, my prom date, but when that didn't work out I tried taking 120mg of DXM because I had no alcohol and was actually more afraid of weed than DXM because of asthma.
I finally decided to try weed towards the end of the summer, and absolutely detested it. I didn't want to drink alcohol alone since I was already concerned with my albeit infrequent use given how I just started to lose my intellect, or so it felt, after I started regularly drinking (weekends only). Instead one night when I had nothing better to do and I was still pissed about that girl, I decided to try 150mg of DXM or so and was absolutely amazed. It was the coolest experience of my life thus far and I kept thinking to myself "so this is what I've been missing out on by not doing drugs" (I had been offered for years, always mr DARE top of my class turning them down). 2 days later I did 300mg and was blown blown blown away, thoguh the 3 day hangover sucked (one day from 150mg).
College came and I became overwhelmed with anxiety, trying to make new friends and trying to keep myself together. I stook to my videogames for a while until I got the great idea to grab some DXM. I still remember my roommate walking back (in the dorms) and me crazily saying "Hey, I'm high! Yeah, on cough syrup"
He was weirded out, but I didn't even pick up any social cues when I was on it. I then started using about 150mg every time I wanted to be social as it reduced my inhibitions and I could actually talk with people without being a nervous wreck. What I didn't realize was I was missing all the subtle social cues of people trying to get me to leave. A few weeks later I was reading the DXM faq again and I saw something about social cues, and this just turned me into an introvert DXM freak.
I started dosing 2nd plateau to 3rd plateau every friday night because after a while I just gave up trying to get into parties that were usually frat parties aka girls only. DXM just floored me, I loved it so much. I was watching Apocalypse Now one time and remember becoming completely immersed in the movie, thinking of the actual Vietnam and how my dad had been there. DXM made me just... I don't know, love life, love everything, and I didn't realize it at the time, but stupid.
After a trip home for Thanksgiving, I tried E for the first time and loved it (though it was only 3 days since my last DXM trip). The next week, I missed every single day of lecture. This has happened every time I did E, I would need an entire week to recover from extreme lethargy.
I started missing days of class every now and then and was getting 3-4 hours of sleep a night (I wokred at 8 am and would usually go out and smoke with people until 3 AM), living on energy drinks and mentally just wearing myself out. I turned into a bit of a pothead and suddenly I developed an entire circle of friends-- but things were always tense since they wanted me to get them pot and I wasn't a dealer. My friend became a dealer and one time when I was back in my hometown and I got a call asking for some, I in the end just gave out my friends number (he had told me this was okay beforehand) and suddenly I more or less cut myself out the group of friends. I would always offer to smoke, but I always felt like the odd man out. DXM every weekend 2nd to 3rd plateau, I remember one time watching the "rainbow road" course from mario 64-- in my head with my eyes closed, as I liked in my bed. I was phychologically addicted.
Eventually got a vaporizer and tried to cut back on DXM but instead ended up combining the two, found a new circle of friends and started smoking pot more often and DXMing less often, but still about every weekend since I was almost never invited to parties and when I was, I was always awkward and stook out like a sore thumb. Screw that, I'd rather 'dex. Eventually got invited to a rave by a fluke of circumstances and E again (most amazing experience of my life that night at my first rave), and after another week of missed classes. I was seriosuly screwing myself academically, the #1 of my high school class who even was admitted to UCBerkeley (but couldn't afford) and I pull 2.89 fall quarter, withdraw one class P/F another (fail because I ended up not studying for the final, too obsessed with DXM to think straight) and the third was easy enough I breezed through with a 3.2 missing half the lectures.
Eventually I was introduced to oxycontin, and suddenly DXM was history; except for the ridiculous price of $80 an 80mg pill. In order to get the most bang for my buck, I started combining DPH and DXM in low to mediumish doses to give Oxy a real kick (5mg line or so with 60mg dxm and 75mg dph). I then started doing these lines all the time and weaned myself off DXM trips by and large, still occasionally tripping on a weekend when I had nothing better to do, but frequently using 90-150mg to "potentiate" my oxy-- seriously, I went a whole month of 5mg lines getting me high and 10mg lines getting me to nod.
I ended up failing pretty much entirely at school almost solely because of DXM. I started to feel like I was absolutely stupid and falling apart, but summer would be my saving grace and the oxy had helped me get off DXM mostly, no longer tripping at least. Completely withdrew from Spring quarter and then went home for the summer, only to have my parents not at home and my brother was turning into right the regular partier. There were a few weeks of regular MDMA use, almost daily pot and alcohol, and just plain craziness. I lost a lot of money trying to buy some stuff which pissed me off beyond belief and drove me to trip, and then when my parents got back and we had to move to a new house, I just turned into a complete recluse, dxming as often as I felt was safe (after the last hangover wore off, usually about a week, less if I puked during the trip).
Come fall quarter the first weekend before class, I'd scored a bottle of codeine cough syrup thanks to strep. It had guaifenesin in it, but I didn't care and one night I took a bunch of mucinex DM tablets, 300mg DPH, and half a bottle of codeine w/ guaif. It was fun, I watched myself fall asleep while still being awake. I even opened my eyes after I was asleep, but then when I tried to move, I couldn't. Thankfully my roommate was out of the room, but I had basically a seizure where I was thrusting myself back and forth in crazy contorted ways just trying to move. Then black out, next morning I didn't remember a damn thing. I didn't remember the "seizure" until a week later, perhaps the scariest part of all.
Next weekend my anxiety takes over again and I just don't ahve anything to do on a friday night, so I go grab a couple bottles of DXM and have a grand old time. I started excessively smoking (vaping) pot.
The second week on Tuesday I had a math quiz, and I still had the "DXM yawns" that I always would get, and my brain just wasn't working right. I finally realized that DXM was fucking up my schooling and decided to quit. Before long, though, I ended up with a bunch of mdma, valium, and xanax xr. A few days later I got another oxy, something that I was all but addicted to (and would definitely have been had my funds and supplies worked out, didn't have a connect in my hometown for the summer). I just went nuts with Oxy + mdma + valium + xanax + dph, throwing in a little DXM (90 or 120 mg) to potentiate the oxy as I figured that the last times I'd done E, it was always within 3 days of having done DXM and those were higher doses, like
z worth or more, so 120mg probably wouldn't fuck me up too much bad. I was wrong. I just cracked mentally, cops ended up coming to my room and illegally searching it and finding a gram of pot that WASN'T EVEN MINE. I didn't demand a warrant because I was afraid they would then go get one (read between the lines), was booked to jail and my life fell apart (but at least I'm pretty sure I can beat the case, my attorney too). Ended up with a possession charge and did a withdrawal from the Uni for a couple quarters to see a psychiatrist and get things straightened out.While at home, I only dexed a few times. Every single time I did, I became schizophrenic. I cannot even put to words what kinds of thoughts and "experiences" I had because I was quite literally crazy, and to this day I wonder what the hell really happend those days. One absolutely crazy beyond crazy example, day after I'd dexed, my memory is foggy since I'd smoked some pot, somehow I ended up lying down while still chewing gum at like 130 200 am. An unknown amount of time later I woke up and went to my computer since I couldn't sleep. I ate a candy bar but there was absolutely NO taste WHATSOEVER. Then drank some water and it didn't feel like anything was going down. Suddenly I suddenly started hearing an inexplicable voice inside my head that wasn't a voice, it was a sound sequence. Then suddenly my body felt it got alert and I became convinced this was the "actual" warning system, that I was actually going to die unless I did something right now. I thought "well can't I just wait until tomorrow" but suddenly every word for "no" that I could possibly imagine seemed to flood back at me, and then I thought do I need help and every word for "yes" I could possibly imagine seemed to flood back at me. I realized the gum was no longer in my mouth, and stuck my fingers down to try to feel the gum lodged in my throat (even though I consciously knew that if there was gum stuck down there, it would have been an hour since I lied down and I would have died of oxygen deprivation by now, and furthermore the candy bar seemed to go down). I thought I felt it, though I'm pretty sure that I didn't. I somehow asked myself if I needed to get my dad to go help, and again the overwhelming "yes" (like yes, alright, uh-huh, let's do it, go, a ton of words one after another so.. fast, so well prepared). I still wasn't sure so I asked myself (see, psychotic) if I could just wait until morning and the overwhelming "no"s came again. Are you serious? The "yes"s. A few minutes passed and finally I asked "absolutely positive" and somehow I got "it doesn't matter anymore" as if implying it was too late and I was already dead. That just scared the hell out of me and I thoguht, hmm, why would I be here in this town so close to the hospital living with my dad at a time like this when I really would need a hospital to live, it's like god set things up (100% athiest, and here I was thinking destiny and god), I figured I was meant to do something worthwhile with my life and that my dad and I had recently talked about some very interesting and also psychotic impossible things about multiple lives, like how we had been brothers in a previous life and how when I was 6 years old I called him by the name he was in this other life way back when in Spain, just absolutely impossible stuff, I somehow started to wonder if he was there to actually save me. Later, the story unravelled further and my belief in reality is still skewed from that incident; apparently he had gotten me locked up in a previous lifetime but they punished me far more than was necessary and he felt forever bad and that he needed to someday make it up to me. Here he was, saving my life. (in my psycho mind, that is)
I finally went and woke my dad and said I need you to help me get some gum out of my throat, I feel asleep while chewing gum and it's stuck and I can't breathe. He replied that obviously I couldn't be talking if there was gum stuck in my throat, and I knew this, but I told him I felt it and to please just take a look. After much frantic convincing he couldn't see so was about to look for a flashlight. Not having success, he went downstairs and turned on an overhead light so I could see what room he was in. I then went back to my room and hid all my DXM bottles and stuff in my backpack, somehow plannign to tell my brother to "save me" from the embarassment of having it all after I died. How would I tell him? That wasn't what I was thinking about at the time, I was deathly afraid of dying. Next I tried repeatedly to "puke up" the gum. A voice that isn't a voice, like I just asked myself questions and answered them if that makes sense, not like a 3rd party entity was really involved, then convinced me that I would be fine in the morning and to not worry. I was too freaked out at this point and kept trying until I tasted blood in my mouth and felt something come out and land on my bedspread-- unfortunately, NOTHING ACTUALLY WAS THERE. I DEFINITELY tasted REAL blood, but NOTHING came out. This just scared me more. I then went to go help my dad look for the flashlight only to find the overheat light was not turned on and that his door was closed, I opened it and there he was sound asleep. What the hell just happened? See, I told you I am crazy. I then proceeded to wake him up again and say we need to go the ER right now, RIGHT now. I was very insistent, saying I was already dead, and he relented and said alright let me just find my shoes. I tried to convince him to go without shoes but he said he just needed them, so he went downstairs again to look for them, turning on the same light as before downstairs and I went back to my room to grab my shoes. Afterward I was half expecting him to be back in bed, like I'm a ghost or something that's already dead, but he was awake and he could hear me and he was still downstairs looking for shoes. He shouted he found them, then ran over to get his jacket and off we went.
This is absolute psychosis, impossible things had happened and I was absolutely out of my mind. In the car my dad asked if I'd done any drugs, I paused and then eventually said no. When we got to the ER I sounded very desperate to the very, very unimpressed/bored with life physician there at 3 in the morning. Again he told me I'm not dying but I insisted over and over again until they brought me to a room. I then saw my brother and I think mom walk up to the front desk, and my brother was talking about something-- he was talking about trying to get my backpack, go through my things, for some reason telling the nurse that after I died he wanted to go through my things first (which was plausible because he knew I smoked pot every now and then). I eventually stopped screaming at the doctor looking at me who was calmly explaining I was not dead, I kept screaming stick your fingers down my throat and get this gum out. She refused, and finally I just gave up and lied back, saying I'm already dead. She asked me what I meant, I said there was gum stuck my throat and the medical system here is pathetic if you let me die in the ER just because you won't take the gum out of my throat. You are absolutely pathetic. I turned very reserved, and then came IV Ativan.
I incoherently/half dreamingly came to a while later and was flashed some documents I was supposed to sign before my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in my bed. Everything was normal, I wondered if it was a bad dream. I walked downstairs and said good morning, everything seemed fine and dandy. Then dad showed me the documents from sacred health and said we should go get your prescription refill on ativan today; it hit me, the night had actually happened. The documents weren't signed, but the documents proved I had been to the ER the night before...
Just a panic attack, but I have had other absolutely psychotic experiences from DXM. A lot of good ones, several mediocre ones, one semi bad trip, and some just that are impossible in every way. I only wish my memory of the events actually worked-- I saw it written somewhere that your memory is switched off when you do DXM and it doesn't encode to the white matter or something as an explanation for the loss of memories during a dissociative trip.
To this day I feel mentally impaired from DXM and I think I did some degree of damage. DXM is great fun, great price, great availability; but stay the fuck away more than one trip per month with the guideline that #1 you have a week to recover (some people get one day of afterglow, I don't get so much an afterglow but a week of feeling my brain isn't working right with very little that's enjoyable, it almost feels like there's nothing going on up there and I get a strong desire to smoke pot because at least then it feels like SOMETHING is going on up there; even after the week, I feel mentally impaired in terms of concentration, memory, focus, and vocabulary), #2 you take x number of months for x level of trip, eg a first plateau trip you take 1 month off, a 3rd plateau trip you take 3 months off. EVEN THEN I suggest against it, just get a low dose of some good LSD (I can't suggest mushrooms because experience #1 was bad trip end in hosptial strapped to the chair, #2 I just drank some tea and had fun but my friend who ate the "mush" from the teabad tripped way, way, way too hard and didn't know anything about anything and had lost his mind temorarily). Stay the fuck away from DXM, that shit doesn't even correctly stop a cold. Just get congress to make some federal register for codeine cough syrup like you have for ephedrine/pseudoephedrine and use that instead, leave DXM for people trying NMDA therapy to reduce tolerance etc.
